Valkyrie of Blue Flames
by WindsAcrossThePlains
Summary: After her brother is wounded in battle, Mist is unexpectedly faced with leadership of the Greil Mercenaries. As they fight to reclaim Crimea, she learns that sometimes, it's much harder to confront the chaos within than the orderly rows of Daein soldiers. AU Path of Radiance, partly based off the beta content.
1. Prologue: Silence and Blood

"Boyd, Marcia, Nephenee, take the left side!" Ike barked, pointing at the cluster of soldiers stationed in the alleyway. "Titania, Oscar, Kieran, take out the mages and generals."

Ike had settled in well as the commander of their little group, commanding the new arrivals just as easily as he had been directing the Greil Mercenaries. Within the past few weeks, their entourage had grown as they added people from traveling merchants, to beast laguz, to a certain mysterious 'fireman' to their ranks. Still, the Daein army hounded at their heels, tearing apart the Crimean countryside to capture the elusive secret princess they guarded.

"Lethe, Mordecai, follow me, we'll need to warn the villagers across the bridge. The rest of you, take care of those soldiers at the gates behind us. Everyone, move -"

He was interrupted by the sharp hiss of a cat behind him. Lethe bristled, her hair on end, and blurted out -

"Hsss! You expect me to warn these foolish villagers? Let them be. They'd sooner try to kill me than accept the word of a 'sub-human'."

Ike sighed. His eyes fell towards the blade the townspeople had given him earlier; now, upon closer inspection, he recognized it as a laguzslayer, a blade specially designed for cutting down beast, bird, and dragon alike. "I just don't get it," he muttered, more to himself than in response to the cat's outburst. "How can the townspeople hate Ranulf so much, just because he has fur and a tail? Aren't we all people?"

"Hmph. I wouldn't expect a simple human to understand."

"Boss, I can take care of the villages. Just leave it to me!"

Ike turned at the voice. Sure enough, it was Mia, exuberant as always, one hand already reaching for her sword.

"You sure? ...Well, all right. Everyone, move out!"

* * *

Mist hated battles. The heavy stench of blood and metal stung her nose, and she could almost taste the death in the air as Boyd's axe slashed across a soldier's abdomen, the light leaving the soldier's eyes as he fell to the ground, scrambling to hold his guts in. Indistinct shouts stabbed at her ears from all directions, flashes of spears and arrows and the crackle of magic as she strained to filter through the noise, to hear if an ally nearby was bleeding and needed her help.

Noise. Violence. Chaos. All of it was anathema to someone as attuned to the forces of order as Mist was, yet her allies needed her, depended on her as one of the only two in the group who could use staves. She reached into her pocket, her fingers seeking the smooth, metallic ridges of the medallion and rubbing against the cool, well-worn copper. The gentle lullaby, once her mother's, came into her head, and just the thought of that old, familiar tune never failed to comfort her even as death and destruction surrounded them all.

Mist rushed towards Rolf just in time to see him nock an arrow into his bow, sending it cleanly into the throat of a thief. This side of the town was empty now, and as the cavalry rushed forward to deal with the enemy commander, Mist took a moment to look Rolf over, frowning at the long gash on his leg.

"Here, let me heal that." Mist reached forward with her staff.

"It's really nothing, Mist, I'm fine."

"Father always said, we have to make sure to take time to heal during a battle. Besides, I could use the practice." She smiled as the round orb on her staff glowed, sealing the wound together until only the faintest of scars was visible. She couldn't help but feel proud of herself, when she could help her allies with her trusty staves, and she much preferred it to the thought of standing at the front lines with a blade in her hand.

Rolf, on the other hand, had rushed off already, eager to catch up with his brothers fighting Mackoya's men near the ship, and she couldn't help but feel everyone she knew was growing up too fast.

* * *

Mia dashed out of the house and ran across the bridge, past Mordecai, who was engrossed in some sort of conversation with one of the town's vigilante swordsmen. The ship they were boarding to Begnion was just within sight, and the hook-nosed paladin guarding it fell, a blast of Elwind knocking him off his horse and leaving him crumpled and broken on the ground. The coast was clear, they just had to wait for Mordecai and perhaps, the swordsman, to make it over here as well.

It was too bad Rhys wasn't cut out to be that white-clad rival the fortune-teller had promised her. She could always use new sparring partners to train with, after all. Then again, the alleyway she'd ran through had been dark enough that she wasn't quite able to tell whether the mysterious swordsman had been wearing purple, or gray, or perhaps… white?

"You!" Ike bellowed, bringing her out of her thoughts as she turned towards where the shout had come from. He was charging, sword raised, at a tall man, clad head to toe in black armor. Oh, she'd heard the rumors about the Black Knight from the other Greil Mercenaries, even if she hadn't been around with them long enough to know much more than that. It was somehow fitting, she supposed. Her with her still unknown white-robed rival, Ike with his black-armored rival…

"You are not worthy of being my foe," the Black Knight stated simply, his resonant voice carrying across the otherwise quiet battlefield. "Flee, while you are able."

Of course Boss would never back down from a challenge, though. He would fight his rival, and seek his revenge against the black-clad man, and -

"Die!" Ike shouted, swinging at the Black Knight furiously. "Die now! Aaaaaaaarrrr!"

* * *

Mist let out a gasp. The Black Knight had sidestepped each of Ike's wild swings, and there was an air of nonchalance about him as he raised his own sword - was that the sword from all the pictures of the legendary warrior Altina? - and struck.

"Oh, Ike, you idiot," she muttered, her voice strained.

Hastily, Ike raised his sword to block the blow, but the sheer force of the Black Knight's strike knocked it from his hand and sent it spinning downwards and sticking into a nearby fence. The Alondite didn't stop there, though, and Mist could hear her own scream of horror as the blade carved through flesh and bone.

She was completely frozen, unwilling to tear her eyes away from the scene even as tears streamed down her young face, even as her hands clenched around her useless staff, as Titania prodded her and pushed her toward the boarding-plank of Nasir's boat. The Black Knight's posture didn't look triumphant, though, as Ike struggled to stem the flow of blood from the wound with his remaining hand. Anger, hatred, confusion flooded her; what in the Goddess' name was this man thinking? Was he supposed to seem so... regretful? Hesitant?

Salvation came, in that moment of hesitation, in the form of a large, blue tiger. Letting out a great roar, Mordecai had bounded up to them in two steps and simply _shoved_ the knight into the wall of a nearby house before scooping Ike up in his arms and dashing towards the ship. The purple-clad man paused a few seconds before following, blending in with the remaining vigilantes as he wove through their ranks quietly and reached the deck.

Mist waited until everyone had boarded the ship before allowing herself to curl up in a dark corner and bury her face in her hands.

"B-brother…"


	2. Chapter 1: Which Way the Wheel Turns

Slowly, the Black Knight extricated himself from the splintered wooden wall. A tiger laguz was a powerful foe, to be sure, but his Goddess-blessed armor had allowed him to remain uninjured from even a laguz's forceful blow.

There was no need for haste. He was no young, impatient soldier, fool enough to think that disobeying his superiors would net him fame and glory. The worm had worked their way into the ship, as desired. Everything was going according to plan, a plan of the only man he would ever be truly loyal to. Now, all he had to do was wait. There was only one regret…

The Black Knight strode forward and picked up the lifeless arm of his mentor's son. He had misjudged, and now he would never have the chance to see the boy perfect Gawain's swordsmanship and become the man he dreamed of battling. The foolish boy had been no match for him, yet his rash attack had left him no choice.

"Listen to me, Daein general. You will withdraw from this place."

He turned at Sephiran's words. The Begnion senator was an enigma; he had always suspected that the man could read his feelings, no matter how he cloaked himself behind his signature black armor.

"Gather your men… withdraw," he ordered, silencing the Daein commander beside him who had begun to object. Giving Sephiran one final glance, he flung the limb into the river and plodded away. There was still a mission to complete, after all. He would not allow his own disappointment to interfere with his loyalty.

* * *

"Mist."

"...Mistine?"

Rhys' gentle voice awoke her from where she'd passed out, slumped in a chair next to her brother's bedside. She was still gripping her staff tightly, its blue orb resting gently on the stump of Ike's arm.

"Mist, you should take a rest. I can handle everything from here."

"Is he…" Mist began, her voice hoarse as she tried to choke back tears.

"Ike will live," Rhys reassured her, laying a cool rag across his feverish forehead. "He's lost a lot of blood, but… Ike is strong. He'll pull through."

There was a soft, nearly imperceptible swishing of robes behind them. Mist turned to Rhys, her eyes questioning, but he didn't seem to have heard the noise. Glancing backward, she could see a figure, cloaked in brown and black, skulking in the shadows of the room - the mysterious thief they had hired back in Canteus Castle. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but his narrowed eyes seemed to gleam with curiosity. It was perhaps the first time she could even remember seeing him since they had left that prison.

"You!" Mist blurted out, turning to face the man. "What are you doing here?"

"It is none of your concern," Volke replied curtly before turning and leaving the room.

"Hey! Volke!" Mist shouted after him, but when she peered around the door, he was already gone. "Why do you think he'd show up here?" she mused absently. "He won't even show up to meals with the rest of us."

"I don't know," Rhys shook his head. "Get some rest, Mist."

* * *

"There you are!" Boyd yelled, bursting into the barracks. "I've been looking for you all over. Oscar says it's your turn to cook dinner."

"Coming," Mist called back, replacing the Slim Sword on its rack. "Just let me clean up a bit first."

"I _will_ teach you how to properly wield a sword one of these days!" Mia shouted behind her. "Even if -"

"Oh, come on," Boyd scoffed at her. "You really need something better to do than trying to turn our healers into myrmidons. At least you're not dragging Rhys off at the crack of dawn anymore to -"

"Well, do you expect Rhys to swing around an axe instead?"

Boyd ignored her, turning to Mist instead. "Don't tell me Mia's been intimidating you into going along with her," he chuckled. "Listen, Mist, I think -"

"You, thinking?" Mist quipped back, but the words lacked her usual humor as she looked back and forth between Boyd and the sword rack. She hated fighting, hated violence. They were children, too young to be caught up in this war in the first place, but Daein wouldn't give them that choice. She was supposed to be a healer, but she couldn't save her father and she couldn't heal Ike's wounds…

" - I think you shouldn't be doing this. Leave the battling to the big boys."

"I… I _want_ to train," Mist said quietly, clenching her fists in determination. "I need to toughen up, or I might not survive these next battles." She glanced around; Mia was glaring at Boyd, sword raised.

"Uh, I should get going!" Boyd said, hastily retreating.

* * *

Ike blinked blearily, his eyelids feeling very heavy as he reached up to wipe the crust from his eyes. Everything felt like it was buzzing around him, and the last thing he remembered was raising his sword against the man who had killed his father.

Someone was beside him, singing a gentle lullaby. _Mother…?_ he thought. _No, if I were seeing Mother in the hereafter, I wouldn't be in this much pain..._

"You're finally awake!" Mist shouted, and he winced at the volume of her exclamation. "You've been out for more than a week, we were all worried…"

He shifted, pushing away the covers, and with a small sigh, Ike's gaze settled on the thick white bandages wrapped around his elbow.

"I promised I'd protect you," he said hoarsely, "and I failed. Guess I wasn't strong enough…"

"We all protect each other." Mist reached for the glass of water on the bedside table, bringing the cool liquid to her brother's lips. "The Greil Mercenaries are our family, after all."

She swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

"I was so scared," she admitted. "Scared that you'd slip away like Father did and… and… and I'd be all alone..."

"I'm sorry, Mist. I truly am. I should have listened to Father…"

There was a knock at the door, and Mist's expression quickly changed into her usual, cheerful self.

"Well," she said brightly, "I'm sure the others will be glad to see their commander awake!"

Ike's face fell again.

"What… what's wrong?"

"Father always said… a commander must be an example to his men. But if I cannot even hold a sword… then I'm nothing but a liability on the battlefield."

"Ike… don't say such things about yourself."

"What? It's the truth. The Greil Mercenaries can't afford to have a crippled commander."

There was another knock, before the door flew open.

"Pirates," Soren blurted out, his face carefully blank of emotion. "There's a flock of sub-humans heading our way. Ravens, from Kilvas."

"Don't call them that," he snapped reflexively. "Pirates, you say?"

"Winged pirates, at that. The flying corsairs of Kilvas and Phoenicis are far more cruel than any of the beast tribe."

Ike bolted upright, pushing himself up awkwardly with his good hand.

"How… how are we supposed to fight against that?" he said, gripping the table for support as he turned to face Soren. He had never felt so weak before. Even the effort of standing was making his head spin and his arm feel like it was being thrust into a fire.

"Let's hope we don't - " Soren began. Then the ship lurched, and Ike lost his balance.

"Ike!" Everything was facing the wrong way. Mist had caught him and was dragging him back onto the bed.

"Damn it!" Soren cursed. "We've run aground. This must have been a trap."

"Then there isn't any other choice." Mist stood, picking up her staff and pulling open the door. "We'll have to fight them."

"I'll protect everyone for you," she whispered as she left. "You'll see."


End file.
